


Holiday

by jeremy_russell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Halloween, M/M, Providence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeremy_russell/pseuds/jeremy_russell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys spend a holiday together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> My first fiction I have written, unbeta'd, and a little unsure. Let me know what you think please! 
> 
> -JR

It all starts with a text from Bitty. These-- things-- usually do. Jack calls them “things” because he doesn’t really have a name for them. Well, if he’s being honest, he has a name, he just doesn’t want to name them. 

Jack! Can I ask you a favor?

Relatively, it’s a normal text. Jack and Bitty text almost every day now- Bitty made him promise as much the day he moved out of the house. It was something simple that Jack could promise, but paled into comparison to what he should’ve promised Bitty. 

But, Bitty asks for favors every now and again. Sometimes it’s advice about hockey stuff- ideas about a play, how to deal with stubborn frogs. Sometimes it’s about class- how to get a certain professor to be your thesis advisor, what class was best to take for the science credit. Jack was always happy to help, and hadn’t said no to a Bitty-favor yet. 

Of course Bits

It’s a second nature response at this point. So much so that “Bits” no longer autocorrects “but.” As soon as he sends it, delivered changes to “Read 4:39 PM” and the bubble with the three dots pop up. It’s taking Bitty an abnormally long time to respond. Jack feels the ants start crawling. 

These things had a name. Ants were what Jack and his new therapist in Providence called the “automatic negative thoughts” that would come into Jack’s brain when something unexpected, or even expected happened. They could be oppressive and there had been days when Jack hardly left bed because of the ants. 

He was getting better at controlling them. Logic was usually Jack’s best weapon against the ants. If that didn’t work, he’d just try to assess things around the room. Things he could see, could smell, could touch, could taste. His therapist called it grounding. Jack called it ant poison. 

Jack was in the middle of tasting the oranges in the fruit bowl when he heard the notification that Bitty had texted back. The message was short. Jack huffed for a moment. 

Are you in town for Halloween?

He thought for a half second before another text came through.

Town as in Providence. Sorry, 

The comma made Jack think there was more to the message so he waited another five or so seconds for a third text. When it was clear that wasn’t going to happen, Jack went to the calendar on his phone. Halloween was on a Saturday this year. They played Thursday in Philadelphia and had Friday off and a Sunday afternoon practice. 

I am. What’s up?

Again, delivered changes to “Read 4:42 PM.” The bubbles appear too. They disappear quicker this time. 

Well

The first one reads.

There’s this party in Providence on Halloween that I really want to go to. Do you think I could maybe come up Friday and stay the weekend?

Jack thinks for a second. 

Yeah, of course Bitty. 

He sends a second one right after. 

Party, eh?

Both are “Read at 4:43 PM.”

Hah, yeah… Lardo told me I should go. We’ll see. 

Now, Jack felt ants and “things” converging in his mind. Before he could type out a worried response, Bitty sends another. 

Thanks tho Jack! I’ll text you when I figure out everything. 

Jack wants to say, “no text me now please, I love talking to you” and he types this out, but knows it will come off as needy and pathetic so he erases it. He types out a short response. 

Sounds good. 

He types out “Love you” but deletes it too. 

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Bitty is driving south on I-95 on the outskirts of Providence when he thinks to text Jack he’s almost there. He pulls his phone out of the cup-holder of his car and holds the home button while he waits for Siri. 

“Siri, send a text message.”

There’s a pause, then “Okay. Who do you want to send it to?”

“Jack.”

“Jack Young or Jack Heart Eyes Emoji.”

He huffs at his phone. 

“Jack Heart Eyes Emoji,” he mumbles the later half under his breath and makes a mental note to change Jack’s contact information before going up to his apartment.  
“What would you like it to say?”

“In Providence now, directions say 15 minutes to your apartment. I park in the side lot right?”

“Ready to send?”

“Send.”

Bitty puts his phone back in the cup-holder and has a moment of thankfulness. He’s thankful his mom bought a new SUV, which allowed him to inherit the old Volvo Station Wagon that’s two years older than he is. He’s thankful the thing is still running, and that it made it all the way from Madison to Samwell that past August. He’s thankful he has no Friday classes this semester and that the coaches only had practice this morning and then not again until Monday morning. He’s thankful that despite the fact that Jack graduated and was a new expansion team’s first franchise player, he still would talk with him. He was thankful Jack was letting him stay in his apartment this weekend, which promised to be one of slight debauchery. 

Lardo had showed him the Facebook event two weeks ago and told him he should go. It was a LGBT Halloween Block Party in Providence that promised to be a lot of fun, among other things. Lardo managed to convince Bitty by telling him “you’re only young, beautiful, and in the Northeast once.” Plus, Bitty thought she could tell he was a little depressed about...things. He hadn’t had that “College Sweetheart” yet, and despite the fact that he knew it wasn’t really that big of a deal, he had gone into college fully expecting the dating scene would be better than in Madison, but three years later and all he had to show was a half-drunk make-out session Freshman year and a guy who texted him for a few months and then got back together with his ex. Bitty was thankful, begrudgingly, for Lardo’s insistence he go to the party. 

In the back of his mind, he wasn’t expecting to be hit on or picked up by anyone and just have this whole trip be a waste of a good costume, but he laid some rules down in his head in case something was to happen: 

No public displays of affection past kissing.  
Don’t be the first one naked.  
Try to remember everything. 

He was going over these guidelines when he heard his phone notify him of a text. 

He relied on Siri again, “Read text message.”

“One New Text Message from Jack Heart Eyes Emoji: Yes! Let me know when you get here and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Bitty put his phone back. He was excited to see Jack. He hadn’t seen him since he came up to Samwell for the season opener, but their conversations through text or FaceTime or Facebook made it feel like he wasn’t too far away. 

In reality, he really wasn’t too far away. 40 minutes wasn’t a bad drive and Bitty could live with spending weekends in Providence with Jack on his couch in his clothes--

No. Jack’s straight. He doesn’t like you like that. He’s your best friend. 

Bitty repeated the mantra he had repeated since around this time last year. It didn’t really work, obviously.  
He exits the highway and listens to the directions given by the map and before too long, he’s at Jack’s apartment. He parks in the side lot like Jack tells him and looks out of the close driver’s side window. The building is tall. Like really tall. He grabs his phone and does a quick Snapchat with the Providence geofilter. He then texts Jack he’s outside. As he sends the text message, he goes to edit Jack’s contact information. He changes the Heart Eyes Emoji to Zimmerman and at once feels peace. 

Five minutes and two snaps later, Jack is knocking at his window. Bitty jumps, Jack laughs. From inside the car, Bitty thinks to himself, “Shit. He looks so good.” Jack’s wearing a Carolina Blue long sleeve shirt with “Providence Falconers” in Navy Blue curving around the Falconers logo. Of course the shirt hangs a little at Jack’s broad chest and is tight in the upper arms and manages to make his eyes look they belong with the clouds. OF COURSE. 

After a minute of recovery of both the scare and how good Jack looks, Bitty gets out of the Volvo. He hugs Jack and revels for a minute. Jack reminds him why he likes boys. Jack’s hard muscle and hairy arms. Smelling like trees and work. Bitty feels protected when he’s hugging Jack and he revels in the moment just a second longer than he would normally allow himself to. 

“Hi Bitty” Jack says as they break up the hug. His voice is a little tired and Bitty remembers Jack’s game in Philadelphia the day before. 

“Hi Jack,” he leans against the Volvo looking at his former across-the-hallway neighbor, “Good game last night. Didn’t like that check Del Zotto laid on you in the second period though.”

Jack rolls his eyes a little, “Bitty, checking is a part of the game. Plus you don’t like any check whatsoever.”

Looking to change the subject before his concern began to show too much, Bitty asks “How’d you know this was me?”

“The Atlanta Braves sticker on the back. Not too many Braves fans up here. We need to get you an Expos sticker.”

Bitty huffs and moves to open the trunk of the station wagon, “Coach would have me by the ear if there was anything but a Braves sticker on here. Besides, the Expos aren’t even a thing anymore, Jack.”

Jack rolls his eyes and smiles again. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. He can feel the “things” but ignores them and appreciates the moment for what it is. 

Bitty packed two bags, a duffle and a carry on, and his backpack so that it would maybe guilt him into doing some work. Jack grabbed the two smaller bags and was about to grab the backpack when Bitty says, “Jack, please. I’ve been eating protein.” 

Jack smiles at this and lets Bitty take his backpack. He starts to walk towards the side door he came from while Bitty locks his car. 

Bitty walks behind Jack and relishes the view for a moment. His first big crush carrying his bags up to his apartment. It’s romantic and has Bitty sighing internally, until he notices how good Jack’s butt looks in his new jeans. Telling himself he’s looking for the label, Bitty looks closer. 

“When did you start buying Levi’s?”

Jack glances back for a second, and steps onto the walkway to the side door. 

“When George went with me to buy some clothes to wear when I wasn’t playing hockey. Something about being in the public eye and all.”

He unlocks the side door and lets Bitty in. 

Before Bitty lets himself stare at Jack’s ass any longer, he repeats his mantra to himself again. 

Jack’s straight. He doesn’t like you like that. He’s your best friend.

They get into the elevator, Bitty with a quiet focus on the door. Jack presses 37 and the elevator starts. Bitty soon realizes this will be a lengthy elevator ride. 

“How was the drive?” Jack starts. 

“Fine.” Bitty responds too quickly and he’s immediately scorning himself for the pointed tone that was unintentional. Jack feels the ants start. 

Bitty sighs, and tries to remedy his tone, “no, yeah, it was fine. Not too much traffic, really. I did cut off some old lady though taking the exit for downtown.”

“Bitty.” For some reason, Jack can only think of Bitty getting hit by the vengeful old lady. Or getting pulled over for aggressive driving and having the police officer use unnecessary force on him and get thrown into Providence County Jail. Or--

“What? She was going sooooo slowwwww Jack. You know I have no patience.”

The ants stop at Bitty’s drawn out vowels, “I know you’re a bad driver.”

Bitty huffs and stares at Jack. Jack smiles at who is quite possibly the love of his life. 

“How would you know about my driving Jack?”

Jack lets out half of a laugh and sees their on floor 17. 

“Bitty, you cut off old ladies. That’s ruthless.”

Bitty punches Jack in the upper arm. Again, he’s acquainted with Jack’s muscle and wants to feel more of it. 

But. Jack’s straight. He doesn’t like you like that. He’s your best friend.

Despite his mantra, Bitty doesn’t have his same steely reserve from earlier, and they spend the rest of the elevator ride in a comfortable quiet.

Jack’s apartment was big, especially for Jack. It was a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment. They only person who had slept in the guest bedroom since Jack moved in was his parents for Jack’s first game with the Falconers. Since then, it had been untouched. Well, until Jack found out Bitty was going to stay with him for the weekend. 

Jack went to Bed Bath & Beyond and bought new sheets in the highest thread count he could find. He also bought a lamp and rug for the bedroom, but only because he needed to and definitely not because Bittle was coming to visit. Jack bought a comforter that looked like the one Bitty used to have back in the Haus, where he would trudge downstairs in the early hours wrapped up in it looking for a piece of a pie he made earlier that day. He bought a few candles from a store that sold exclusively candles, which Jack thought was a little excessive to be honest. Regardless, he bought a lavender and lemongrass candle that he thought smelled like Bitty’s home from when he visited this past summer, and a clean cotton candle for the bathroom because he remembered Bitty liked to clean his sheets and towels constantly. Jack also got new towels, but again, only because it was about time he decorated that guest bathroom. 

The two walk into Jack’s apartment and Jack feels like he needs to introduce it. 

“Well, this is it.”

“This is it? Jack this is incredible!”

Bitty rushed to the windows. To the left is College Hill and to the right is the Providence River. Jack has a beautiful panoramic of the city and Bitty sits backwards on the couch against the windows to take a look at it. 

From where Jack is standing, by the kitchen near the front door, he admires his blonde companion. Bitty’s back seems broader, or maybe that’s Jack’s subconscious wanting him to go wrap himself around him to see if it actually has gotten broader. His hair is short on the sides and long on top, the hairstyle that solidified his attraction to Bittle. Bitty’s shirt was riding up a little in the back and between the bottom of the long-sleeve and Bitty’s khaki joggers, Jack could see the top of his underwear. He swallowed as he made out “Calvin Klein” on the silver band. 

“Jack?”

Bitty was still looking out of the window, but had apparently been calling Jack a few times. 

“Wha-- yes?”

“Is that where y’all play?”

Bitty was pointing somewhere near Brown, and Jack responded, “No, we play in the...the um, Dunkin’ Donuts Center.” He was still getting used to saying that seriously. He had hoped the team would move soon to a bigger, newer arena not named for a breakfast food. 

Bitty nodded when Jack told him, “oh.” Bitty then got up from the couch, touched Jack’s arm, and smiled, “thanks again for having me. I know you’re busier than a bollweevil in a cotton field.”

Between being confused as to what a bollweevil was and having his mind short circuit from Bitty’s touch, words slipped out of Jack’s mouth before he could filter them. 

“Bitty, I’d do anything for you.”

Jack felt his eyes going wide and tried to search for something in Bitty’s face that let him know what he said wouldn’t ruin this weekend and their relationship forever. 

He was met with warm brown eyes that were crinkling at the corners on either side of freckle-dusted nose, “thanks Jack.”

Bittle let go of Jack’s arm and started to walk around the apartment, examining it. As expected, he made a bee-line for the kitchen. Jack knew the higher floors of this building had the nicer kitchens. He knew this, but it honestly didn’t affect his decision at all. Not one bittle. Er- not one bit.

“This kitchen it beautiful Jack,” Bitty said as he was feeling the white marble countertops and the stainless steel appliances, “is this a Wolf Range?” Bitty was now examining the oven. 

He had crouched down by the oven to look at it closer and again Jack could read “Calvin Klein” on Bitty’s lower back. He swallowed and averted his eyes to some papers that were on his counter. 

“I’ve only seen these in magazines. It’s so pretty. Do you have pans? I was plannin’ on troublin’ you with a trip to the store for baking supplies, but I might just have to so I can bake in one of these things before I die.”

Jack thought to himself, “well, you’ll be baking in that thing many times before you die,” but instead said, “check the cabinet to the left.”

Bitty followed Jack’s directions and audibly gasped when he encountered the full baking set Jack had bought from William’s Sonoma. The lady at the store said it was “the most perfect and complete set for someone who loves to bake,” and though Jack felt silly for spending all that money on pots, pans, sheets, and other “baking essentials,” he smiled as he loaded the box into his car. 

“Are these William’s Sonoma? Jack these are amazing.” Bitty was holding a cookie sheet like it was a newborn. His properness must of caught up with him at that moment and he placed the pan back in the cabinet. Jack was a little sad. It was exciting to see Bitty excited. It was exciting to know Bitty was excited because of him. Or at least something he had done indirectly. 

“Look at me. I’m touchin’ everything in this kitchen like I own it. You probably don’t want me dirtying up your place. I’m sorry.”

Jack’s face dropped for a second before he half-blurted out, “no it’s fine.” He felt the ants. “I mean, I was expecting you to be excited about the kitchen. I bought some ingredients if you wanted to bake. I was thinking you would actually.”

Bitty smiled and again, warmness filled in his coffee-eyes. 

“You’re too good to me Jack.”

Jack smirked to himself. A comfortable silence fell as Bitty examined more of the kitchen and the ingredients Jack bought. It then hit Jack he hadn’t shown Bitty his bedroom. 

“Would you like to see where you’re staying?”

“Jack I could honestly sleep on this counter-top. It’s so pretty.”

Jack laughed at Bitty’s joke and started to walk towards the guest bedroom and Bitty followed. As he opened the door and let Bitty in, he grabbed the two bags of Bitty’s he had left by the door. He heard Bitty again gasp and say, “Jack-- this is too much!” 

Quickly, ants filled Jack’s mind. Oh no. What if he’s allergic to lavender. What if he has bad memories about his old comforter and burned it in effigy. What if he prefers low-count sheets. What if he doesn’t like white towels because they get dingy so easily. Jack almost ran to the bedroom and found Bitty sitting on the bed.

“Jack. This is amazing. Thank you.” 

Jack took a breath and relaxed, a little. He smiled as he put Bitty’s bags down on the ground and showed him how to work the shower. Jack heard Bitty “aww” as they walked back into the bedroom. He had picked up the framed picture of him and Bitty Shitty had taken on his cell. 

They were on a couch in the Haus and Bitty was sitting next to Jack. Bitty had fallen asleep on Jack’s shoulder and Jack fell asleep on top of Jack’s shoulder.

Again, Jack smiled as he took the small victory. He knew that picture was a good addition to the room. 

Eventually, they end up back in the living room, Jack leaning against the countertop and Bitty sitting on Jack’s couch. 

“So, what’s the plan Mr. Zimmerman?”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat he hears Bitty address him as Mr. Zimmerman. 

“Well,” he swallows some nerves, “I was thinking we could go to dinner tonight, and then come back here. Chill night.”

Bitty nods, “where are we going for dinner?”

“Gracie’s. I made a reservation at 7:30.”

Jack checks his wristwatch and Bitty checks his phone. They both see 5:30. 

“Do I need to dress up?”

Jack nods, “yeah, it’s a relatively fancy place. You’ll like it though, I think.”

“Good!” Bitty starts, “I think I’m going to go shower, so I don’t smell like Volvo.”

“I like the smell of Volvo,” Jack thinks to himself. 

Bitty makes for the guest bedroom and soon Jack hears the shower turn on. He retreats to his own room, closes the door and lays back on the bed. He lets out a long sigh he had been holding in the whole afternoon. He takes some time to get grounded before he starts thinking about the boy in the other room. It may be that absence has made Jack’s heart grow fonder, but Jack wasn’t one for cliches. He knew Bitty always had his heart and any denial of it was stupid. This was the source of the “things” Jack didn’t want to talk about. 

He got up from the bed and shed his clothing. He put on more deodorant and sprayed some new cologne on before he started to change into the dress shirt and slacks he was going to wear that night. 

“Jack?” he heard Bitty call for him in the living room. He opened his door and stepped out into the living room, with one shoe on and the other in his hand. 

“Yes?”

Bitty looked up from the couch, and then stood up, “does this look okay?”

Jack greedily took the offer to give Bitty the up-down. He was wearing a pair of black joggers that looked like they were slacks, yet effortlessly casual. He had a blue and white plaid button down shirt on underneath a gray sweater. Black smoking slippers with a cat on either shoe adorned his feet. 

“Cat loafers?” 

Jack was hitting himself mentally. Of all of the great things about Bitty’s outfit he could’ve said, he said “cat loafers” and did it questioningly. They looked good, of course. Bitty could wear a potato sack and Jack would still find him adorable. 

To Jack’s relief, Bitty took it as a chirp and responded, “I knew you were going to chirp me on them. It’s just that I bought them this summer at the outlet malls and I really don’t know where else I would wear them.”

“You look fine, Bits.” 

He smiled, “you do too, Jack.”

Jack suddenly felt underdressed. 

“I feel Kmart to your Prada, Bits.” 

Bitty laughed, “Jack I didn’t know you knew what Prada was.”

Jack smiled at the chirp, “George told me they wanted me to model something for them once. I turned them down because I don’t know why they would want me, but I did my research Bitty.”

Bitty rolled his eyes and then launched himself towards Jack’s room.

Jack followed and found Bitty going through his closet.

“Let’s see if we can’t get you from Kmart to Gucci.”

Bitty started pulling out clothes and holding them up in the light of the closet. Jack sat on the bed and watched him. He let his mind drift to a world where this is what they did every time they had an event to go to. Bitty would be dressed and Jack would patiently wait for his boyfriend to gather some outfit for him. He smiled like an idiot on the bed. 

Before he could get deep enough into the daydream where Bitty was dressing their adopted son for a family outing, Bitty was approaching him with some selections.

“Here, try this outfit.” 

Jack looked at his watch. It was 6:50, and Gracie’s was a 10 minute drive away, so they had time. 

Bitty had handed him a pair of navy trousers George insisted he buy. They were slim fit and cut to be short on the leg, and had a windowpane pattern on them. He hadn’t worn these yet, but gladly accepted anything Bitty wanted him to try on. Bitty also handed him a light blue oxford button down. 

Awkwardly, Jack started to take off the clothes he had on in front of Bitty. He could see him swallow and suddenly return back into the closet. He slipped on the picks Bitty made for him and turned into the closet. There, Bitty handed him a light brown belt and a pair of light brown shoes. 

“Put these on, then you should be good to go.”

Jack did what he was told. He felt like Gucci. 

“Now you look better Jack,” Bitty chirped. 

They walked out of Jack’s bedroom and made their way to the door. Jack grabbed the keys to his car and they headed to the elevator. Jack pressed the button for the parking garage and they gradually dropped down. 

“What’s good at the restaurant?” Bitty’s drawl brought him out of a temporary zone-out.

“I liked the lobster, but they change their menu like seasonally.”

“Should I look at the menu in the car or be surprised when I get there?” Jack could hear the smile in Bitty’s voice.

“Be surprised.”

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Dinner was great. Well, the food was. They both enjoyed everything they ordered and were stuffed beyond belief. The conversation was a little...awkward, Jack guessed. They were seated and sat in silence as they both looked over the menu, Jack glancing up every now and again to see Bitty’s flaxen hair as he studied the page. Jack felt like the silence was going on too long, that it was just a sign of things to come for the weekend, but think of anything worth saying to start any type of conversation. 

When the bread basket arrived, Bitty grabbed a biscuit and his knife. He did what Jack saw him do a number of times back at Samwell: slice the biscuit in half, put butter on both halves, and then pepper both halves. 

“You always do that,” Jack commented without filtering it. 

Bitty looked up with a breath of a blush on his cheeks. 

“Do what?” He looked at Jack with curiosity. 

Jack took a short breath, “you always butter and pepper your biscuits.”

Bitty held the biscuits halves in both hands and examined the baked good. He looked like he was thinking, and Jack immediately regretting saying anything. Was he dumb? You don’t say anything to a southerner about their biscuits. That is literally their bread and butter.

Jack was forming his apology when Bitty started, “My mom preps hers this way too. I guess it’s genetics. Want to try a bite? You’ll never eat a biscuit the same afterwards.”

Relieved, Jack agreed and instead of letting himself get fed the piece of biscuit off of Bitty’s fork by Bitty, he grabbed the fork and tried himself. From there on, the dinner was casual, comfortable, and like they were back at Samwell. They talked about everything from their new teammates to what Providence was like to how their mothers were to how good the good was and on and on. 

They ended the dinner with both of them stuffed. Jack had taken the check, much to Bitty’s dismay. Bitty was off using the restroom before they left when Jack noticed he left his phone on the table. Jack was going through his calendar on his phone when he saw Bitty’s light up. He had a new notification and try as he might, Jack couldn’t not take a glance at the phone. 

It was from “Jack’d” saying “YOU’VE GOT A NEW MESSAGE!” 

From the lit phone screen, Jack could see that that notification wasn’t the only one of its kind. The phone went dark and Bitty returned from the bathroom. Jack was still curious about the notifications. He debated for a half second about asking Bitty about them when he thought better of it. He decided looking on his phone was a better solution. As they were walking out of the restaurant, Jack went the App Store on his phone and looked up “Jack’d” and found it. 

In the app description, it said “Gay Chat & Dating.” Jack felt himself getting a little crushed by this. Simultaneously, he told himself he nothing to get crushed about. Bitty didn’t owe him anything. He was free to gay chat and gay date all he wanted and not wait around for Jack to man-up enough to say or do something. He glanced at Bitty while they were waiting for the valet. He was looking intensely at his phone.

Jack bet he was looking at his messages on Jack’d. Suddenly, a scene entered Jack’s mind. He pictured Bitty being taken out by some guy off of Jack’d and Bitty falling in love with this guy’s ability to say his feelings and his life that wasn’t crippled by anxiety. He pictured Bitty on a bed asleep, curled up to some guy. He pictured Bitty--

“Jack, honey, you good to drive?” Bitty’s drawl brought him back. 

The valet was handing him his keys and Jack had zoned out enough to not notice. 

“Hmm? Oh, uh-- yeah. I should be.” He hadn’t drank at dinner, but was feeling intoxicated by his thoughts, “actually, do you think you can drive Bitty? I trust you not to crash and I’ll give you directions or whatever.”

Bitty looked at Jack a little concerned and took the keys from the valet. They got into Jack’s truck and Bitty had to adjust the seat for about 20 seconds before he could reach the pedals. 

Jack was sitting in the passenger side looking out of the side of the window. He hated himself for thinking these things right now. He just had a great dinner with Bitty and now he couldn’t even drive because Bitty was possibly chatting with someone. 

They pulled out of the restaurant parking lot and Bitty relied on the directions from GoogleMaps to get them back to Jack’s apartment. The drive back was silent and was filled with worried glances by Bitty. 

They got back up to the apartment and Jack excused himself to his bedroom. He shed his clothes and ran a bath. He was happy this apartment had a huge tub because it let him lay down and there was nothing Jack wanted to do more than lay in a tub of hot water. This was a security blanket for him. He remembered taking baths with his mother when he was a child and taking baths when he was sick. He remembered taking baths at rehab. He remembered taking baths at Samwell. He let himself relax in baths. The tub was nearly full when he got in and he placed a rolled up towel underneath his head. The water was just south of scalding and he let his mind go blank. 

Meanwhile, Bitty stood in the living room at a loss on what to do. He tried to think about everything he had said at dinner and if anything could have offended Jack. He was stumped because he thought dinner had been really nice. He loved Jack, obviously, and any time spent with him was something he cherished, even silent car rides when Jack was acting distant and looking paler than ice. 

His phone vibrated with a notification. 

“YOU’VE GOT A NEW MESSAGE!”

Bitty sighed and rolled his eyes. Lardo made him download this app right before he was left for Providence. She told him to try and talk to guys and practice his game a little bit. So far, nothing had been fruitful, and this message was just another of the annoying messages he had received since he downloaded the app and set up his profile. He looked at the messages on the app and saw a few older looking men saying “Hey there cutie :-)” and headless, shirtless torsos saying “send nudes” or “bottom?” The app made Bitty feel exposed and he hated it. 

He left the messages unread, exited the app, and deleted it. Jack’s behavior worried him, but Bitty knew he should probably let him do his own thing. Or at least that’s what he told himself. 

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Jack shook awake when he heard the sound of something crashing in his kitchen. He realized he had fallen asleep in his tub and the water had grown cold. Quickly, fearing an intruder in his kitchen, he pulled the stopper, drained the tub, stood up, and dried off. He briskly threw on a pair of sleep pants and walked into the kitchen ready to fight anyone who threatened Bitty or his life.

What he got when we walked in was far from what he expected. The kitchen and living room were unlit, and seeing as it was now 3:29 AM, there was nothing but darkness outside. Jack’s eyes quickly adjusted and he saw Bitty kneeling on the countertop with stacks of tupperware and some pots next to him. Jack had walked in quietly enough for Bitty not to hear him, and Jack stood and watched Bitty for a second. 

He was wearing bright orange Calvin Klein underwear with a waistband like he saw earlier. He was also wearing a Navy Blue shirt with “Zimmerman” and “1” in Carolina Blue outlined in silver on the back. Jack couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Bitty had Jack’s jersey in shirt form. Actually he couldn’t help but feel a lot of things in his stomach. He wanted to go and grab Bitty by his waist and hug him from behind. He wanted to kiss Bitty’s neck. He wanted to touch Bitty’s butt.

As he was ogling the poor boy instead of helping him, Bitty turned and caught sight of Jack out of the corner of his eye. He fell back and almost slipped off of the counter, which had Jack rushing to make sure Bitty was okay. 

When Jack got over to Bitty, he realized how unintentionally close he had gotten to Bitty. Bitty was now sitting on the edge of the counter, his legs spread and with his knees on either side of Jack’s hips. Their chests were touching with every inhale they took. Jack had his hands on Bitty’s shoulders and Bitty had his on Jack’s waist. 

“You scared the hell out of me Jack,” Bitty’s sleepiness bringing out his drawl even more than usual. 

“Are you okay?” Jack began moving his hands checking for any damage. 

Bitty grabbed his wrists and smiled at Jack through his embarrassed flush, “Jack, I’m fine hun. But if you could help me put these things back up in your cabinet, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course Bitty,” Jack said, almost out of habit. 

But Jack didn’t move his hands from Bitty’s shoulders and Bitty didn’t move his hands from Jack’s wrists. They stayed there for a moment, each looking into the other’s eyes. Bitty looked hopeful and Jack looked lost, but excitedly so. 

“Jack?” Bitty asked almost silently.

Suddenly, the intimacy of the moment hit Jack and he removed his hands and placed them on the countertop. There Bitty was, in briefs and a shirt and there he was, in sleep pants and shirtless. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he offered lamely. It was another instance where he could’ve (and should’ve, really) made a move or something to let Bitty know he wanted nothing more than to hold him there and kiss his full lips that were pouty and a little chapped when he was sleepy.

“It’s okay,” Bitty was rubbing Jack’s bare upper arm, “you okay? You’ve been” he paused for the right word, “a little zoned out tonight.”

Jack looked behind Bitty out of the window of his apartment. He didn’t know what to say. Then he looked at Bitty’s eyes and thought this was the moment where all of his ants would disappear. This was the moment when he would tell Bitty he loved him more than hockey. This was the moment he would finally get to kiss Bitty. This would have been the moment if he could find the right thing to say. 

But he couldn’t, so he looked away from Bitty and down onto the counter and relied on vagueness. 

“I just,” he started, stumbling upon the first two words, “have someon--” he tried to catch himself from revealing too much, “something on my mind.” 

Jack could feel Bitty’s concern. Bitty was still rubbing his upper arm soothingly. 

“Jack, who’s on your mind?” 

Jack took a shaky breath and turned his head to Bitty. Jack looked like a scared deer and Bitty looked like the deer’s mother. Bitty was searching Jack’s face for something, anything. He wanted Jack to talk and wanted to know what was going on in Jack’s head. He wanted to be there for Jack, but all he could do was rub his arm. He felt helpless. 

Jack kept breathing and closed his eyes. He had finally found the words he wanted. 

“Someone who shouldn’t be.”

Jack opened his eyes to a worried Bitty. Bitty’s eyes were filled with worry and Jack’s were filled with sadness. Bitty understood this all too well. He couldn’t help but feel bad for Jack and secretly hate whoever was doing this to him. 

“Jack,” Bitty started and pulled him into a hug, wrapping his hands around his midsection, “come here.”

Jack hesitantly wrapped his arms around Bitty’s neck.

For those seconds, everything was right. There weren’t ants or things. There wasn’t anything but the love of his life in his arms. This wasn’t his perfect scenario. Bitty would be his boyfriend living here and not his best friend visiting for a weekend. But Jack took what he was given because even that seemed to be far too much than what he really deserved. 

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Saturday morning came slowly. It was cloudy, nippy, and too early for a weekend. Jack woke up at 6, as he usually did, but allowed himself some time to just lay in bed. He planned to take Bitty down the Dunkin’ Donuts Center for an early morning skate on the ice, and he was going to make good on the promise, but he wanted to lay in bed for a little while longer. 

On the opposite side of the apartment, Bitty woke up from a fit of sleep. He was restless for most of the night after he saw Jack. He thought he had a good idea as to who was on his mind, but he wouldn’t let his own curiosity or hope cloud his abilities and responsibilities as a friend. Bitty could still feel the hug. He could still feel Jack’s arms around his neck, could still feel Jack’s heart beating too fast in his ear, still feel the scruff of Jack’s stubble on the top of his ear and side of his head. 

Both Jack and Bitty sighed at that moment, two rooms apart. 

Bitty was the first to actually get out of bed. He was actually really excited to go skate with Jack that morning. He hadn’t done that in such a long time that he was giddy about seeing it. Jack always looked like he belonged on the ice, like it was his natural habitat. Sometimes Bitty was convinced Jack was more comfortable skating than he was walking. He was also just happy to spend some time with Jack. Jack was, cheesiness aside, his best friend, and he loved seeing him and seeing him happy. 

Jack put on a pair of soccer joggers and a Falconers warm up shirt. He threw on a jacket that had “Samwell Alumni” on the left side of the zipper that Chowder had given him at the team banquet earlier that year. He made a mental note to text Chowder at a more normal time of day. 

He exited his bedroom and Bitty was sitting at his kitchen counter with a mug of coffee. His head turned to the sound of Jack’s door opening and he couldn’t help but smile at morning Bitty. The usually tame, ordered blonde hair was in disarray, there was a red mark above Bitty’s eyebrow and a matching one on his wrist from where he slept. He looked a little tired in his eyes, but he assumed everyone usually did at 6:30 in the morning. Bitty was wearing gray sweatpants with “Samwell Hockey” printed on the left hip and a maroon half-zip pullover Jack recognized from the bookstore. Surely enough, when he stood on the other side of the counter from Bitty, he saw the white block “S” on the left. Under the pullover, Jack saw the blue of Bitty’s Falconers shirt. 

“I helped myself to some coffee, I hope ya don’t mind,” Bitty’s vowels got longer with his sleepiness. 

“Not at all,” Jack smiled. He remembered weekend mornings at the Haus when he’d be the first one awake and park himself in the kitchen with his homework. He only did this because the kitchen had the best natural lighting in the whole Haus and definitely not because Saturday morning was Bitty’s designated “Test Pie Time” where he’d be in the kitchen looking flustered and frustrated with a new recipe. This definitely had no effect on Jack’s choice to work in the kitchen. 

“We still skating?” Bitty asked. 

Jack nodded, and grabbed a travel mug and set the Keurig to fill it. Bitty grunted, finished his coffee, and retrieved his skates from his room. Jack led them out of the apartment and down into the garage. 

The city was just waking up when they pulled out of the garage, and Jack turned to Bitty to point something out to him, but his eyes were closed and his head was against the seat. He was starting to snore softly, and Jack made a memory of the sound. 

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Their skate was amazing. Jack always felt easy on the ice, but today he felt easier than he had ever before. He and Bitty skated the rink for two and a half hours, until the Events Staff for the team kicked them off the ice for a kids skate. Bitty was so graceful on the ice and it was never unnoticed by Jack. Even in Bitty’s freshman year when Jack spent the whole year convincing himself he didn’t have a crush on this cute southern boy with a heart of gold, and thus treated him like crap. 

Bitty was flushed and had sweat forming on his forehead at the end of their skate, but he didn’t mind. Seeing Jack on the ice, being with Jack on the ice, was worth anything Bitty could give.

They were back in the apartment now, in their respective rooms showering and changing. Bitty stood at the bed in his underwear, hair still wet from the shower, deciding what he was going to wear that afternoon. 

He knew what he was going to wear that night. He placed the components of his “Sexy Señor Bunny” out on the bed to change into that night. Bitty rationalized wearing the same costume two weekends in a row by saying the Haus party had been a bust for him. As per usual, there was no one there to hit on him and noticed how good his legs looked in the shorts. Plus, for some reason, PBR was bought for the party, and Bitty detested PBR. So it was a sober, fruitless party for Bitty, and the outfit was too cute to not get hit on in. Alongside this, he was in Providence damnit, a totally different city with a totally different crowd. 

Bitty decided on a pair of khaki shorts and a white tank top. The tank top was gift Jack bought for him at the airport when he visited that past summer. It had the state of Georgia in red with the word “home.” on the front. Bitty wore it at least once a week, only because he wanted to remind everyone where he was from. He walked out of his bedroom and to his surprise, Jack was nowhere to be found. 

Bitty glanced at the clock and saw it was now 10:15, still early enough for a late breakfast. He walked into the kitchen and pulled everything he needed for pancakes. Jack had some pumpkin pie filling and Bitty grabbed that as well, deciding since it was Halloween, pumpkin pancakes were appropriate. 

He was just taking the first batch of three off when he heard Jack’s door open. 

“Just in time,” Bitty said while focusing on the next batch, “yours are ready.” 

Bitty grabbed the plate and placed them on the kitchen counter and Jack took the seat he had taken earlier that morning. Bitty also handed Jack some syrup and a small metal bowl, “cinnamon butter,” he said in a short explanation. Jack prepped the pancakes and waited for Bitty’s to be done to start eating.

“Do you not want them?” Bitty asked concerned when he plated the second batch and saw Jack hadn’t taken any of his yet. 

“Oh-- no! I mean yes! I mean,” Jack took a breath, “I didn’t want to start without you.” 

Bitty sighed and smiled with the exhale, “oh Jack, you didn’t have to do that. Dig in.”

Jack knew better than to try the small southerner, so he cut and forked a bite. Involuntarily, he moaned when the pancakes hit his tongue. Bitty, who was prepping his own pancakes after turning off the stove remarked, “you like ‘em?”

Jack nodded with a mouthful of pancake in his mouth and syrup on his chin. Bitty smiled and took a bite of the pancakes as well. 

“Hmm. They’re too cakey. I want ‘em lighter and fluffy-er.” 

Incredulous blue eyes were looking at Bitty. How could he say these things were any less than perfection in the form of a pancake. These pancakes were better than most people Jack knew. But, Jack knew how hard Bitty was on himself about baking things. He called him out one Saturday on it, but Bitty retorted by pointing out how Jack would take wins with grains of salt. Bitty said: “if you’re not critical about what you’re passionate about, your passion loses its importance.” 

Little did Bitty know, but Jack wrote that quote on a sticky note and still has it on his laptop. 

Jack was halfway through his pancakes two minutes later and actually looked at Bitty. 

“You’re wearing the tank I got you,” Jack smiled. 

Bitty’s mind raced with things to say, ranging from “of course I am, I love it and you” to “it’s my favorite shirt I have” or “if you like it on me, you should see if off of me.”

Instead, he settled on a slightly indifferent, nonchalant, “oh, yeah! I love this thing.”

Bitty smiled at Jack, who then responded with, “so where is Madison? Is it here?” he had his finger touching the north central part of Georgia. He felt Bitty’s chest under the shirt and felt muscle where there hadn’t been not even a year ago. He was proud of Bitty for, ya know, actually eating some protein and bulking up. He had also noticed the other place where Bitty had bulked up, but he wouldn’t ever tell Bitty his butt looked nice. 

A nod came from Bitty, “just about,” he said swallowing a bite of pancake, looking down at Jack’s finger on his chest, “well, actually, if we’re being exact,” he said while grabbing Jack’s wrist and moving his hand, “Madison is here.” 

“Do you miss it?” Jack didn’t filter the question, but he wasn’t that mad it came out. 

Bitty looked him for a second and then back to his pancakes, “sometimes,” he started. 

Jack glanced at Bitty, waiting for more, and Bitty rolled his eyes and got up from his chair. 

“C’mon,” he said, grabbing Jack’s clean plate and his plate and putting them in the sink, “let’s do dishes.”

Happily, Jack agreed and stood next to Bitty at the sink. They agreed Bitty would wash and Jack would dry. For a silent moment, they cleaned the dishes from that morning. Then, Bitty took a breath in, and continued his thought. 

“The South is almost like an abusive partner if you’re not a straight white person,” Jack looked at Bitty while drying a dish. “You hear all this great stuff about hospitality and friendship and kindness, and it all exists, but the South is as backwards as everyone thinks it is. I love it, but it doesn’t really love me, ya know?” 

Jack nodded and kept looking at Bitty, “that’s part of the reason I chose Samwell,” he continued, “I wanted to be somewhere and call it home and not have to worry about acting too effeminate or saying the wrong thing or not having to hear about how great Trump would be as a president.”

They shared a laugh, a pleasant break from the sudden heaviness. 

“I just miss everything up here when I’m down there and miss everything down there when I’m up here.”

“Do you think you’ll move back?” 

Bitty sighed, “we’ll see. Ideally, I’d get a job here.”

Jack inhaled quickly enough that he started coughing. He knew Bitty meant “here” as in New England, but the thought of Bitty getting a job “here” as in Providence was enough for him to be caught off guard.

Concerned, Bitty patted a wet hand on Jack’s back. 

“Don’t want me in Providence, huh?” Bitty joked. 

Jack recovered and put the dish he was drying away. They were finished and now were sitting in the living room. 

“I’d love to have you in Providence.” 

Bitty’s eyebrow perked, “really? You think I’d like it here?”

Jack grinned, “seem to have liked it so far. What would you want to do?”

Bitty shrugged. He knew this question would get asked many more times by many more people, most of whom he cared less for than Jack. However, this question was growing with legitimacy as his Junior year was almost halfway done. So, he gave Jack the answers he had spitballed earlier that semester. 

“I’m not too sure really. I thought maybe working with Social Media for a company or a team. Or marketing. Or working as a college recruiter.” 

“Pretty varied, eh?” 

Bitty laughed and nodded, “I guess.”

Jack pulled his phone out and sent a text to George. 

Do we need a Social Media person? I know someone perfect.

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Jack had an event at the Whole Foods at 5, so he left at 4:30 to meet George there. Bitty was alone in the apartment and decided this was as good as a time as any to pretend to do some school work. He pulled out his laptop and sat on Jack’s oversized couch. He looked at his to-do list and started on the easiest task: a discussion board post. 

He started typing and made up some response that sounded half right and would get him full credit. His phone buzzed and he saw he had a text from Jack. He unlocked his phone and saw a picture of Jack in his Falconers jersey and jeans kneeling with a little boy who was missing his front teeth and was wearing an “I Heart Zimmerman” shirt. 

Suddenly, Bitty wanted that shirt. 

Too cute! He responded

He immediately sent another message, How’s it going? 

The bubbles popped up and Jack responded with It’s good! I don’t mind doing these events. Kids are better fans than their parents….

Bitty let his mind drift to a daydream of him and Jack with a small child. He imagined him and Jack and their son all in one bed on a Saturday morning, sleepily eating breakfast and watching cartoons. Bitty loved these visions of his future the most. 

Do you remember George? Jack texted him again. 

It took Bitty a second, but then realized Jack was talking about Georgia. 

Of course, why?

She wants to see you! Breakfast tomorrow before you leave? Maybe?

Bitty thought about it. He hadn’t planned much out after tonight. He knew tonight had the potential to wind up being a little wild, so he was hesitant about making any plans when he knew he might not be fully sober that night. But he could tell Jack wanted him and George to meet up. 

Sounds good! 

Then, Bitty typed out another text he didn’t mean to send, but sent accidentally. 

I wish I didn’t have to leave :( 

Neither responded for about ten minutes. Bitty tried typing responses that would placate this out-of-character confession, but nothing worked. It was all either too harsh or too hard to explain. 

Then, Jack responded with Me too :-( I like having you around

Bitty saw an opportunity to change the topic, so he did. 

You just want pancakes on demand

Jack quickly responded with 

….they were pretty good

On either ends of the text exchange, both sighed. 

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Jack was on his way back from the meet-and-greet when he thought about Bitty’s plan for that night. He knew Bitty was going to attend some type of party, but he hadn’t got many more details than that. He wondered about what Bitty was going to wear. He knew he wasn’t going to wear the bunny costume he wore last week to the Haus Halloween party; it was like Bitty to repeat an outfit. Besides, when Jack got that picture in the group text last Saturday, he had to put his phone away quickly lest he get distracted at the team meeting. When he got home that night, however, he let himself look at that picture for an unreasonable amount of time and was looking at it when he did something less than respectable. 

He thought about what he was doing that night. Should he ask Bitty to go with? No that’d be imposing. This was the party Bitty wanted to go to without anyone he knew there. He’d let him have his anonymity. Should he ask a teammate for drinks? No, most of them had kids to trick-or-treat with or were attending parties otherwise. He settled on just reading a book he had unfinished on his nightstand for the past six months. 

That was the plan, at least, until he walked into his apartment. The meet-and-greet took a good part of his day up, and he was walking in at 9:45 when he heard what he thought was Beyonce coming from Bitty’s room. The door was slightly open, so Jack walked to it and knocked lightly. 

“Bitty?” he asked as he stood at the door frame. 

Bitty didn’t hear him, so Jack followed the music. It lead him to the bathroom where Bitty was looking intensely at the mirror. Jack swallowed as he examined Bitty before him. He had on a pair of gray underwear and knee high white socks and nothing else. Jack resisted every urge in his body to just pick Bitty up right there and kiss him hard against the bathroom counter. 

His moment of resistance was interrupted by Bitty finally noticing him standing there. He jumped and grabbed onto the counter. 

“Jesus Jack!” He clutched at his bare chest. Jack noticed how smooth it looked. It was more defined too than the last time Jack saw it. He gulped as he saw what he was touching that morning. 

“Oh-- uh-- sorry Bittle” Jack started and backed out of the bathroom. He sat on the bed and noticed Bitty’s costume. So he was going to wear the bunny costume again. 

Bitty padded out of the bathroom and towards Jack. He placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder and rubbed the tense muscle there. 

“It’s fine baby, just don’ sneak up on me like that.”

Bitty’s voice was slower and sounded like honey. It was then Jack saw the silver flask with Bitty’s monogram on it on the bathroom counter. He also smelled the whiskey on Bitty’s breath as he wavered in front of him while rubbing his shoulder. 

“Bittle, how much have you had to drink?” Jack was using his captain voice and he hated using his captain voice. He knew it scared people and he didn’t want that. But his concern for Bitty put that worry on the back burner. 

He looked up at Bitty. He looked like a scolded child, looking downward with an arm behind his back and a foot kicking an imaginary piece of dust. 

“Enough,” he said with his sweet voice. 

“Enough to what?” Jack asked.

“Enough to make me stupid,” he smiled. Bitty then moved closer to Jack and put a knee on either side of Jack’s thighs. He sat on Jack’s legs and wrapped his arms around his neck. He looked at Jack while he rested his forehead on the French-Canadian oaf. 

Jack’s senses went into overdrive. Everything was warm. He could see the gold that streaked Bitty’s irises. Bitty’s sugary sweet smell permeated Jack’s thought and he wanted nothing more than to taste Bitty’s skin. He could hear Bitty’s bated breath as he waited for Jack to make a move. 

Everything told Jack to do something, but everything held him back from it. It was an internal battle of wills as his common sense told him to get a drunk Bitty in a better place while his desire told him to take the opportunity in front of him with a near-naked Bitty straddling his legs. 

As Jack fought with himself about what to do, Bitty quietly said, “hi Jack.”

That was it for Jack. His resolve melted and let his arms wrap around the back of Bitty. 

“Hi Bitty,” he breathed. 

Bitty smiled and looked Jack in the eyes, “is this okay?”

Jack nodded because he couldn’t say anything. 

Bitty smiled again and asked, “can I kiss you?” 

Again, Jack nodded. 

Even in his drunken haze, Bitty approached Jack’s lips hesitantly. He kept his eyes open until he made contact with Jack’s lips. It was one kiss at first. Jack’s lips were chapped from being outside at the meet-and-greet and Bitty’s were wet with alcohol, but they didn’t really care. It was sweet, it was sour, it was nothing they expected and everything they expected. Jack thought he’d allow himself one kiss then help Bitty shake off his drunkenness. 

But he didn’t. As they pulled away after the first kiss, Jack brought a hand up Bitty’s bare back and placed it on Bitty’s neck. He pulled him in for another kiss, then another, and another. Jack felt at ease. He felt like he was bathing in Bitty. He was at peace for a minute, then he tasted the alcohol on Bitty’s breath. 

Immediately, he pulled back from their embrace. Bitty whined and tried to push back into Jack’s lips. 

“Bitty--” Jack’s captain voice was back.

Bitty kept trying to kiss Jack again. 

“Bitty, stop.” 

“Why?” 

Jack grabbed Bitty’s wrists as they roamed around his chest. He made Bitty look him in the eyes. 

“Because you’re drunk and I’m not and I already regret doing this.”

Hurt read on Bitty’s face and he pulled back, “doesn’t seem like you regret it,” he said under his breath, pointing to Jack’s obvious erection. 

Jack rolled his eyes and looked again at Bitty. 

“Not like that. I don’t regret kissing you. I regret kissing you while you’re drunk is all. People shouldn’t be taken advantage of like that.”

Bitty looked at Jack. He was processing what he was saying and his face still read as hurt. After a moment, Bitty realized what Jack was saying was right. 

“I’m sorry Jack,” Bitty started, and came in to hug Jack. When Jack started to pull back a little, Bitty started with, “I’m just hugging you.”

They hugged there for a few seconds, which didn’t help Jack’s betraying erection. Bitty then got off of Jack’s lap. It seemed the encounter with Jack had caused the whiskey to reinvigorate itself in his system and he felt drunker than he had before, and he felt pretty drunk before. 

He grabbed the costume off of the bed and put it on. He zipped up the front, revealing some of his chest. Bitty then shuffled to the bathroom to draw on whiskers and a nose to finish the costume. Meanwhile, Jack went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. 

Bitty came out of his bedroom and Jack coughed up some of sip of water he just took. The picture didn’t do the costume, or Bitty, justice. Bitty looked hot. And he knew it. He stood on the other side of the kitchen counter shooting flirtatious looks at Jack. 

Jack swallowed hard and thought of something to divert his attention, “so, uh” he started, less-than-confident, “what is this party again?”

Bitty rolled his eyes, frustrated Jack wasn’t falling for his ploys, “it’s the LGBT Halloween Block Party. It’s over on Westminster. Starts at 10.” 

They both looked at the clock on the microwave. It read 10:24. 

“How are you getting there?” Jack asked with concern. This was one of many questions he had forming in his head, but this was the best to start with, he guessed. 

Bitty pulled out his phone and showed it to Jack, “I’m getting an Uber. Don’t worry so much.”

“How many people are going to be there? Do you know anyone there? What time are you going to be back?”

Again, Bitty rolled his eyes, “geez Canada-mom. I don’t know to all three.” 

Jack winced at the term ‘mom.’ He was just worried. 

“Can you please keep me updated? Providence is a nice place but there are some creeps out there Bitty. Just-- just please let me know if you need me or something.”

Bitty nodded and went out the front door, saying, “I’ll Snapchat you” as the door closed. 

Jack was left in the kitchen, worrying, and picking at the cuticles on his thumb. This was going to be a long night. 

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To Jack’s surprise, Bitty, even in his drunken state sent Snapchats to Jack. He seemed to be having fun and seemed to have a different drink in every picture he sent. Jack didn’t think he was too drunk when he left the apartment, so he didn’t worry too much, but now he was starting to worry. 

Every Snapchat Bitty sent was answered with one with Jack looking worried saying, “You okay?” 

Some got answered and some were opened and ignored. Jack was a little hurt but then realized this was Bitty’s mini-vacation. He should be allowed to do whatever he wanted to do, with whoever he wanted to do it with. Jack didn’t have to be there at all times and regulate him. 

Then, Jack got a Snapchat video where Bitty filmed a guy across the street from where Bitty was standing captioned “this guy’s been staring ALL NIGHT.” Jack looked closely at the figure in the video, but he couldn’t see much because of the poor lighting. The video ended with Bitty and a couple of girls making a scared face and saying “yikes.”

This kicked Jack into action. He didn’t care if he was crashing Bitty’s good time, he was going to make sure that creep didn’t do things to Bitty he didn’t want to do. Or drug his drink. Or kidnap him. Jack got up from the couch and went into his room. He didn’t know what to wear. His plan on saving Bitty had only gotten as far as here.

Suddenly, he got an idea. He opened up his dresser and dug through it. He pulled out a pair of jean-shorts he cut that summer. Normally, they were too short to wear in public, but he figured this was a special circumstance and that he should try to fit in a little bit. He grabbed a plain white t-shirt from the dresser as well and slipped it on and tucked it into his shorts. Jack then went to the closet and grabbed a red and black flannel and threw it on over the shirt. 

“LumberJack,” he thought to himself. 

He glanced in the bathroom mirror once before leaving the apartment quickly. He got to the first floor of his building and exited onto the street. Westminster wasn’t too far away, so he decided to jog over to the block party. 

He was just starting to break a sweat when he walked upon the party. It was massive. There were hundreds of people on a barricaded section of the street. He had a feeling finding Bitty would be much harder than he originally thought. Jack saw a line and an entrance into the party and walked briskly to it. At the front of the line, someone greeted him, drew a black check on the back of his hand in black sharpie, and wished him a fun time. 

Jack thought he thanked him, but didn’t really care about formalities at the moment. He entered the swarm of people and suddenly felt really silly. He was overwhelmed and felt the ants and anxiety creep into him quickly as he walked along the edge of the crowd. His breath got short and he felt people everywhere and he wanted nothing more than to be by himself in his apartment. But he was so worried about Bitty. As much as he hated to say it, he knew Bitty was an easy target. He was a small guy with a low tolerance for alcohol and was really cute. 

The music was so damn loud too.

Jack’s anxiety about the situation and his worry for Bitty were wrestling with each other when he felt a hand on his shoulder turn him around. 

“Jack?” 

“Georgia,” he was so happy to hear a familiar voice, even if it wasn’t the one he was looking for.

“Jack!” there was excitement in her voice. Jack hadn’t talked with anyone other than Shitty about his homosexuality, but he had a feeling Georgia knew from early on. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here!” she started, leaning into Jack’s ear so he could hear her, “Jack, this is my girlfriend Zoe!” 

He examined the two women. They were an attractive and comfortable couple. He was a little jealous, but he pushed that to the side for now. 

“Hi Zoe, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jac--” 

“Jack Zimmerman,” she cut him off, and now they were almost hugging in order to hear each other, “I know where my girlfriend works. I like the costume, lumber-Jack,” she emphasized the latter part of the word, and Jack felt his quick decision was now appreciated. 

“Thank you! And you two are,” Jack looked at Georgia and Zoe for a moment, “Netflix and ice?” he guessed.

“Netflix” Georgia said referring to red outfit “and chill Jack!” she said referring to Zoe’s light blue costume and ice cube jewelry. 

“What is that?” Jack asked, genuinely wondering what it could mean.

Georgia had an incredulous look on her face and said “are you serious?” 

Jack looked to Zoe for some help and she got the cue, “so what’re you doing here Jack?”

Jack then remembered why he was here, and leaned into the space between Georgia and Zoe, “I’m looking for my friend--”

“Bittle?” Georgia asked.

“Yeah,” Jack confirmed, “he’s here alone and I’m worried about him.”

Zoe and Georgia looked at each other, then Georgia asked Jack, “what is he wearing?” 

Jack explained Bitty’s costume and then the three of them went off into the crowd to search for Bitty. Thankfully, all three of them were relatively tall so they could see over the tops of dancing heads, looking for a pair of bunny ears. 

“Jack, there!” Zoe said, placing her hand on Jack’s shoulder and pointing off to the left with her other hand. 

He saw Bitty’s ears and looked back to Georgia and Zoe, “thank you,” he mouthed. He walked over to where Bitty was dancing by himself. 

Bitty kept dancing and turned in a half circle and saw Jack. 

“Jack!” He threw himself at Jack, hugging him and spilling some of his water in his hand on Jack’s back. While he was there, he spoke in Jack’s ear, “what’re you doing here?”

Jack let himself hug Bitty for a while and answered Bitty, “looking for you. That guy in the video you sent me creeped me out.” Suddenly Jack realized how stupid this whole thing was. Bitty was obviously having a good time. He was safe. There were too many people around to let anything happen. “I’m sorry, I was just worried. I’ll go now,” he started and pulled back from the hug. 

Bitty tugged on his flannel and pulled him back. He leaned up and spoke in Jack’s ear, “you’re fine, he kept trying to dance with me. I didn’t know what to do so I’ve been running around this dance floor the whole night.”

Instantly, Jack’s actions felt validated. He breathed easier and leaned into Bitty’s ear, “you want to go talk to a few friends of mine?” 

Bitty nodded and they made their way back to Georgia and Zoe. Bitty’s hand slipped down Jack’s arm and intertwined with Jack’s. Neither one would admit how good it felt to just hold hands. They found Georgia and Zoe who were now at a tall table filled with empty cups where the music wasn’t as loud.

“Hi y’all,” Bitty started in his drawl, “I’m Eric Bittle, but everyone calls me Bitty.”

He extended his hand and Georgia took it, “Hi Bitty, I’m Georgia, we’ve met before.”

“That’s right! On the bridge! How’re you dear? I love your name, I’m from there ya know,” Bitty started to ramble, then realized there was another person to introduce himself to, “oh my, where are my manners, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Zoe,” she took his hand, “I’m her girlfriend,” she said with a small gesture to Georgia. 

“It’s a pleasure Zoe! I’m Eric!”

Zoe nodded, “so you’re the boyfriend, huh?”

Jack and Bitty looked at each other quickly and both were at a loss for words, mouths a little agape. Luckily, Georgia saved the day.

“They’re college friends Zo, they used to live together.”

“Yeah,” Bitty started, “Jack here lived across the hall from me. He’s so kind to let me stay here for the weekend.”

Knowingly, Zoe nodded. 

“Did you have fun Bitty?” Jack asked.

Bitty nodded as he sipped more water, “except for that creepy guy, it was fun. I danced with a lot of lesbians. They’re great, ya know.”

Georgia and Zoe laughed a little and Jack rolled his eyes affectionately. 

“Did you have fun Jack?” Bitty asked. 

Jack looked a little sternly at Bitty, “well, considering I only came because I was so worried for you and felt really silly coming when I got here, I’ve not had the best time, if I’m being honest.”

Bitty’s eyes were a little glassy and he responded, “that was too long and I’m too drunk to understand what you just said, sorry.”

The three others laughed again. 

“Jack,” Georgia said, pulling out her phone, “put your arm around Bitty, Zoe get in there, we’re taking a picture.”

They did as they commanded, and Jack put his arms around the shoulders of Bitty and Zoe. He pretended to not feel Bitty’s hand right at Jack’s waist, but it was still there. 

“Perfect! I’m going to tweet something Monday with this!” Georgia stated, a little proud, “the Falconers love ALL their fans.”

Jack was a little worried about the picture going out, but he figured he’d call Georgia tomorrow or talk to her at breakfast that next morning about it. As he was formulating what he was going to say, he felt the weight of Bitty’s head on his arm. 

“Jack I’m sleepy. Can we go?”

“Sure Bittle, let’s go.”

Bitty hugged Zoe and Georgia and Jack confirmed breakfast tomorrow.

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They got back into Jack’s apartment not too long after leaving the party. As soon as they got into the door, Bitty stripped off his costume and left it on the kitchen counter. He then laid down on Jack’s coffee table, using Jack’s magazines as a pillow. 

“Jaaaaack,” Bitty whined laying down, “I’m hungryyyyy.” 

“What are you hungry for Bittle?” Jack asked as he sat on the couch. 

Bitty turned to him and gave Jack a drunken grin, “I want something that was frozen less than five minutes before I ate it.”

Jack rolled his eyes and walked into his kitchen. He opened the freezer and pulled out the frozen meals he had. 

“I have a chicken club panini, tortellini with pesto sauce, and enchiladas suizas. Which do you want?”

“All of them,” came Bitty’s response. 

“Bitty, really?” Jack asked, turning towards the living room. 

“Mhmm, but make the tortellini first.”

Of course, Jack did what he was told and put the tortellini in the microwave first. He punched in the time and left it to cook. He retook his position on the couch and watched Bitty looking at his phone very intensely. 

“What’re you tweeting about, eh?”

Bitty looked at him, then locked his phone. 

“None of your business you Quebec.”

Jack laughed a few times in his chest and sat back on the couch. He pulled out his phone. Georgia had made him get a twitter when he started playing. He had tweeted a few things, a few pictures at events, a well-wish to @SamwellMensHockey on their season opener. Georgia had suggested tweeting something after every win, but all Jack could think to tweet was “Win.” so he did. And that had grown a little in popularity, with people now wearing shirts at the game that had “Win.” printed on the front. That was pretty cool, he thought. 

He scrolled through the list of people he was following and found Bittle’s twitter. The lastest tweet read: omg cute boys making u tortellini is AMAZINF #swwooon. 

Promptly, Jack favorited the tweet. Bitty got the notification a second later and made a sound that could only be equated to what Jack assumed a pterodactyl screaming would sound like. 

“Jack!” 

Jack was laughing at this point and went back and favorited some more from earlier that night. He never really read the tweets on his timeline, so this was a fun experience for him. 

“Jack! Stop! I’m serious!”

Bitty was now sitting upright, leaning back on his feet, phone in one hand and the other on his hip. Jack really had a hard time taking the half-naked, drunk Bitty seriously. Jack kept favoriting tweets and Bitty kept getting the notification sounds. 

After the notification sounds ceased being individual dings and started being a continuous ding, Bitty decided to take matters into his own hands. He walked on the coffee table on his knees and spanned the distance between it and the couch. He was straddling Jack for the second time that night, but this time with a much different motive in mind. 

Jack let the shock of having a lapful of Bitty for the second time that night wash over him briefly, but was brought back into the moment when he felt him grabbing for his phone. Jack used his large wingspan to make sure Bitty couldn’t get the phone. Bitty got frustrated with this game and sat back on Jack’s knees. Jack then brought the phone back between the two of them. He favorited another tweet and Bitty started grabbing for the phone all over again. 

“Damnit, Jack!” 

Bitty then grabbed Jack’s wrist above both of their heads and reached for the phone with the other. He made a half-jump from Jack’s lap and grabbed the phone. Bitty then fell back into Jack’s lap, this time much closer than before. He and Jack’s noses were touching. Bitty looked into Jack’s eyes and felt the most sober had in awhile. He saw some dark blue and white in his eyes. He saw the color thin as Jack’s irises expanded. 

Bitty rubbed his thumb across Jack’s eyebrows. He thought they’d be coarse but instead they were so soft. Jack’s eyebrows were so soft and Bitty couldn’t handle it. He kept rubbing his thumb across Jack’s eyebrows, and Jack let him. 

He stopped and held Jack’s head in his hands. Bitty’s eyes were a little watery and looked at Jack again. Jack looked so concerned for him, but it looked so good on Jack. 

“Bitty,” Jack said with concern, “are you o--” 

Before he could finish, Bitty had started to kiss Jack again. Jack made a muffled noise of protest at first, but let himself relax into the kiss. Bitty was kissing Jack as softly as he was rubbing his eyebrows just seconds ago and Jack didn’t let himself worry about whether or not Bitty really wanted this because if he didn’t he was doing a pretty convincing job. 

Bitty tentatively shifted further into Jack. It was then Jack felt Bitty hard in his underwear. He hated himself for wanting to touch it, so he kept his hands at his sides, not trusting them to touch Bitty. 

Bitty pulled back a half an inch from the kiss to muffle out, “Jack, touch me.”

Jack took a sharp breath and asked Bitty, “you sure?”

He pulled back further this time, “God damnit Jack, yes. Fucking grab my ass or something.”

Tentatively, Jack did as he was told and went to grab Bitty’s butt when the microwave sounded off. Bitty sighed and put his head on Jack’s shoulder. 

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. 

“You want to keep going?” Jack asked. 

“Yes,” Bitty started, kissing Jack’s neck, then stopping and looking him in the eyes, “but I really want tortellini.” 

They both laughed and let the tension of the moment escape as Bitty got up off of Jack. Jack saw Bitty’s erection straining in his underwear and a wet spot by where it ended. He stood looking at Jack. His hair was mussed and his eyes were heavy. He was smiling warmly at Jack. 

“Can I have your flannel? I’m cold,” his words were slow and lyrical. Jack leaned forward and took off his flannel and gave it to Bitty. He hummed his thank you, buttoned a few buttons near the bottom and walked into the kitchen. 

He opened the microwave and took out the tortellini, “ouch, shit” he said, quickly removing his hand from the packaging. 

Jack looked over, “you good?”

Bitty nodded, sucking on his index finger, “just the steam.” He then started to feed himself tortellini and Jack watched him. Jack realized this was probably the longest he had gone without an ant or thing creeping into his mind. He wanted Bitty and Bitty wanted him back, supposedly. He loved Bitty and he was pretty sure Bitty felt something for him. Jack felt like this was so much more than what he deserved, but the way Bitty made him feel made him feel like maybe he did deserve it. Jack knew better than anyone else that things weren’t better overnight. He knew that he would have to work to keep the ants at bay. He would have to work at not denying the “things” he felt for Bitty. He would have to work on not thinking he wasn’t good enough. But if there was anyone to do it with, it was with Bitty. Bitty was warmth and Bitty was love. Jack knew it from the start but didn’t know what to call it, or rather did know what to call it, but didn’t want to call it that. He had no idea how this was all going to work-- he’d leave that conversation for morning, if Bitty still felt the same way then as he did now. A sharp jolt of fear pulled at Jack’s chest as he thought about the possibility of this being just a solitary act of drunkenness on Bitty’s part. But then Bitty looked at Jack with a tortellini on his fork and smiled as he slid the pasta into his mouth, and Jack let that thought die. 

Bitty put the fork in the sink and threw away the tray the tortellini came in and walked toward Jack again, “can I sleep in your bed tonight?” Bitty smiled mischievously, “I’m still cold,” he lamely came up with. 

Jack looked hard at Bitty, “I’ll sleep out here, you can take my bed. I have an electric blanket,” he could see Bitty’s face drop a little, “besides, I don’t think I could keep my hands to myself, and you’re drunk, so I shouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

Bitty huffed and rolled his head around, “like that’s a problem Jack, I was literally dry humping you earlier. Plus,” Bitty said matter-of-factly, “I’m not that drunk anymore. I’ve got a belly full of tortellini and a respectable blood alcohol content.”

He walked closer to Jack and reached out his hand, “c’mon, let’s go to bed.”

Simultaneously against and with his will, Jack took Bitty’s hand and let him lead him into his bedroom. 

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Bitty woke up naked and alone in an unfamiliar bed. 

“I actually did it,” he thought to himself, “I hooked up with a random guy.”

He laid back on the pillow and put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He heard a door open somewhere in the room and thought to keep his eyes closed to avoid any possibly awkward situations. 

“Bitty? You awake?” Jack’s soft-spoken question jolted Bitty’s eyes open. 

Jack? He hooked up with Jack? This couldn’t be right. He moved his eyes from the ceiling to Jack who was standing at the side of the bed. He was shirtless and in black boxer briefs. Maybe he did hook up with Jack. 

“Jack?” Bitty asked, knowing the answer. 

“Hey,” Jack smiled, sitting down on the bed next to Bitty, “you feeling okay?”

Bitty smiled, Jack looked vulnerable and sweet. He felt fine, so he told Jack that. Jack smiled back at Bitty and Bitty thought to ask Jack what had happened last night, because he didn’t remember. 

“What happened last night?” he asked, sitting up, blankets pooling around his lap. 

Jack swallowed and looked away from Bitty, “well,” he started, “you were pretty intoxicated.”

Bitty laughed, “I figured. Anything happen?”

“You don’t remember?” 

“No,” his concern growing, “should I be worried?”

Jack looked at him, “I don’t think so? Do you want to know what happened or do you want me to lie?”

Bitty pulled up the comforter up under his arms like he would do when his momma told him a bedtime story. 

“What happened?” 

Jack fell backwards and laid on the bed. He exhaled through sputtering lips. 

“When we got back you stripped down to your underwear and laid on the coffee table. I went to check on you and you kind of-- well, you straddled me and we made out,” Bitty raked a hand through his hair, slowly getting more shocked at his actions last night. 

“Then you ate some tortellini and dragged me into here and you took off your underwear and got into bed. I went to go get ready for bed and when I got back you were dead asleep.” 

Bitty looked at Jack, surprised he didn’t do more, “really? We didn’t fuck?” 

Jack coughed and sat up from his bed, “what? Oh god no-- what? I wouldn’t do that-- I mean, I wouldn’t do that when you were drunk.”

“Is it bad I’m disappointed?”

Jack laughed and looked at Bitty, “is it bad I am too?”

That broke the tension that had built. 

“So are we dating now?” Bitty asked. 

Jack smirked, “if that means I get to see you without that blanket.”

“You saw me without that blanket for two years Jack. We were on a college sports team together.”

“True, but that was before you made out with me.”

Bitty rolled his eyes, “I’m serious Jack, are we dating?”

“Do you know what you’re getting into?”

“Not really, but I’d like to.”

They looked at each other, “so we’re dating?” Jack asked.

Bitty smiled, “we’re dating.”


End file.
